Dear Anthony,

I thought we had something good going. We have, over the last two years, enjoyed a mutually respectful relationship founded on a passion for food, old rock bands, love of travel, and the joy of sneaking in sexual innuendo wherever warranted. I'll admit, my feelings were a little more than platonic. I know we said we'd keep things "just friends" but for some reason your blatant womanizing attitude attracted even me. For a while there I thought you felt the same way... until a recent San Francisco episode where I realized I was very VERY wrong.

Tony, I don't know what to say. I'm at a loss of words. I mean, I know you and I know you have a propensity toward all things butchered and bloody, and you love a good vegan joke...but this episode...I dunno. I thought you really meant it. Has our whole relationship been a lie? Have you just been using me to boost your viewer count?

How could I have been so blind? I knew deep down that we were too different. I'm 24, your 50. I'm 5'5" and you're like, 7'8". We're also both married, Tony. We should have known better.

Now that I know how you really feel, and finally see how you really feel about me, I'm going to call things off. Maybe it's time we go our separate ways. You to your slab of butchered armadillo, and me to my "granola crunching" as you might say. 

It's been one heck of a ride. And maybe we'll run into each other years down the road. I'll walk toward you and you'll roll toward me in your wheel-chair. Then, maybe the timing will be right. Maybe then we'll be in the right place to make this work.

I wish you all the best, Tony. Really I do.

All my love,

Hannah